Collecting on Old Bets
by Escaping Gravity
Summary: Janeway and Seven discover that they've traveled to the same vacation destination…and then discover a lot more in the course of their stay. Post-Endgame. Later chapters will be rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Collecting on Old Bets**

**Summary: ** Janeway and Seven discover that they've traveled to the same vacation destination…and then discover a lot more in the course of their stay. Post-Endgame.

**Disclaimer 1: **Paramount, blah blah blah. They can sue me in 10 years…right after my student loans are paid off. Deal?

**Disclaimer 2: **If you have a problem with lesbian relationships, turn back now—fair warning. This story is built on the gradual progression of attraction-confusion that sometimes happens between two women. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out and have a very gay day.

**A/N:** _The power was out for two days here; that means a lot of resourcefulness and a lot of time on your hands. This is what happens as a result. I revisited the story after a few months to update and edit it, but this is basically the original._

_The goal here was to kick my habit of short one-shots and lift the word count. 10,000+ is small beans for some of you; for me, it's a damn marathon. _

_Enjoy._

* * *

><p>The old, outdated shuttle groaned to a halt at the equally outdated station it landed at. Outside, dark storms raged on the planet's western coast, but inside, the station was dry and warm. Lavender hung in the sterile air.<p>

Strangely, it was only as Kathryn Janeway was disembarking from the shuttle and walking into the station that she noticed a familiar blonde head several people in front of her.

Without thinking about the attention their meeting might draw, she called out.

"Seven?"

The blonde slowed for a few seconds, certain she'd heard the unmistakable sound of Captain Janeway's voice, but not quite believing it. She surprised herself by turning around, as it was essentially an act of faith.

"Captain?"

Happiness broke over both women's faces as they recognized each other. The people tangled between them parted, instinctively aware that this was a meeting of old friends.

They embraced tightly, ignoring the crowd around them—some of whom immediately realized who they were and captured the moment as it unfolded.

Seven pulled away first, shock still etched in her face as she regarded Janeway.

"Captain…why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same," Janeway replied easily, smile wide. "And it's _Admiral_ now."

"Of course; I recall hearing of your promotion. My apologies, Admiral," Seven corrected herself hastily. Janeway blithely waved her off.

The ex-Borg looked into the other woman's face a second longer, pleased to see the Admiral in person again and unsure of what to say. She turned to glance out at the inclement weather. Social rules dictated that when one experienced awkwardness in a conversation, the weather was nearly always a sufficient topic to discuss.

"I do not think we will be going anywhere soon unless we wish to be electrocuted," she dutifully observed.

Janeway laughed, a sound Seven hadn't heard in several months. The crisp notes rang in her ears until it finally occurred to her that she had actually missed the sound of Janeway's voice. Nostalgia was still an unfamiliar feeling for her.

The former Starfleet captain looked as if she was considering something, then impulsively made the suggestion out loud. "Care to join me for a drink and catch up while we wait out the storm, Seven?"

Janeway's spontaneity caused her to smile briefly. "I accept," she stated simply.

"Wonderful. Now, if I remember correctly, there's a nice little place right around this corner and down the hall…" Janeway trailed off, taking the lead.

=A=

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><p>=A=<p>

Two hours later, slightly flushed and cheeks aching from smiling, Janeway glanced at her chronometer. 1900. The ferocious storm had long since passed.

They sat propped on their stools and cradling drinks, making themselves at home in the bar. The reminiscing about _Voyager _had started when the bartender replied _I'm a bartender, not a meteorologist, _to Seven's inquiry about the storm. Both of them had glanced at the other and chuckled, thinking of the Doctor's affinity for those same statements.

In the midst of so many memories, Janeway had barely gotten around to actually catching up with Seven. The other woman seemed to be thinking the same; she broached the topic before Janeway could.

"Admiral, what business do you have on Fero? There is little here but resort living and tourism."

"Not official business, certainly," Janeway grinned. "I'm here on vacation."

Seven raised an eyebrow. "I did not know your vocabulary contained such a word."

The older woman's smile melted into a crooked one. "Starfleet brass will do that to a person," she explained. "I can hardly stand sitting at a desk and wading through bureaucratic red tape every day. I'm not suited for it."

"That is clear," Seven agreed, taking a sip of her drink. She studied Janeway's face. "I would have anticipated your frustration without difficulty."

Janeway acknowledged the knowing statement with a nod. "What about you, Seven? Here on vacation?"

The only indication that something was awry came when Seven averted her eyes. "Yes."

Even through the buzz of the alcohol, Janeway picked up on her former crewmember's unease. She shifted to place a hand on the younger woman's arm, leaning in with concern. "I don't like the sound of that _yes_. What's wrong?"

Seven managed to suppress a smile. "Your ability to 'read' people has always been… unnerving."

"I'd prefer you not change the subject, Seven. What are you really here for?" Janeway did not find Seven's avoidance amusing, and her tone underscored that point.

"Vacation, as I said." Seven stared insubordinately back into the older woman's gray eyes.

The Admiral remained visibly unconvinced. "There's something you're not telling me."

Seven said nothing, gazing down into her glass even as she felt Janeway's eyes on her. A very familiar feeling of being stalemated settled on both women for several seconds, their stubborn personalities clashing for the thousandth time.

"Where are you staying, Admiral?" Seven switched, unwilling to linger on her reasons for being there.

Janeway let it pass—for the moment, and not without a hard glare at the blonde. "Just down the road. Big place with the ridiculous amount of windows, Starfleet insisted that I stay there. Yourself?"

"I will be staying at a location farther down the road. The smaller place at the end of the bend, near the rockier section of shore." Seven kept her eyes on her drink.

"Mmm," Janeway acknowledged, nodding disinterestedly. She drained her glass in one long swig. "And how long are you here for?"

"Three weeks."

"Same." Her curt tone made it clear that she was still bothered by Seven's refusal to share whatever was wrong.

The bartender came by to refill Janeway's glass, but she declined, standing instead. The music in the bar had become too loud and its patrons too raucous; the flight in had been long and her bones were beginning to feel the effects. That was what she told herself, at least.

Seven knew that the Admiral was about to excuse herself before the words were spoken, and a twinge of regret lodged in her chest at parting on less than excellent terms. She stood quickly, hoping to repair the damage.

"Admiral, I'm—"

"It's fine, Seven. I should be going to check in. Please enjoy yourself on vacation… perhaps we'll see each other around."

Seven was left nodding as her former captain walked away.


	2. Chapter 2

It was just starting to get hot.

Sunlight blazed on the beach, heating the fine white sand as the day broke. The ocean beat its slow rhythm on the shore. As Janeway walked along, listening to the waves lap against the sand, serenity settled on her face.

Her loose clothing whipped gently against her skin with the breeze…her feet sunk into the wet sand…the warmth of the sun settled on her cheeks….

This was exactly what she had come for.

No calls, no meetings, no press conferences, no interviews, no negotiations. No brass. No paperwork or deadlines.

No complaining.

The medical chief had ordered her to take leave knowing that she would never voluntarily do it, and now (though she would never admit it to him or anyone else), she was secretly grateful for the time off.

Fed up with Starfleet, that was for damn sure.

Maybe accepting the promotion was a mistake. This was not the first time the thought nagged at her, but it blossomed in the copious amounts of free time that vacation afforded her. When _Voyager _had returned, there were celebrations and inspiring speeches and media attention and a wave of overwhelmingly positive, triumphant emotion. She wondered now if maybe she had allowed herself to be carried away by this idealism against her better judgment.

Those positive feelings had disappeared a long time ago. It had been almost a year since _Voyager_'s return, after all, and every indicator pointed to a stable, secure, even lucrative future for them all. But the current reality of her life at times drove her to long for the old days. To miss the pranks of Tom and Harry. Miss Chakotay's gentle wisdom. B'Elanna's cranky outbursts. The Doctor, Neelix's kindness. Tuvok. Seven.

Even though she'd received more than she could have dreamed upon their return, she found it intolerable, found her heart profoundly unfulfilled. And this vacation only magnified it.

Her feet carried her down the smooth shore, troubled thoughts only dissipating gradually with the tide and distance. She eventually sat down in the sand with a PADD, settling into an old Earth novel she'd been meaning to read. It _was _a vacation, wasn't it?

She left problem-solving for another time.

=A=

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><p>=A=<p>

Seven's day began in streaks of irritation. Thirty minutes into her scheduled relaxation time, she found herself filled with energy and unable to simply rest. She called up reports, schematics, scholarly articles—anything to keep her mind occupied. Any excuse to shun the personal and attend to the professional was welcome at the moment.

Her new career as a Starfleet officer sprouted as soon as she stepped off _Voyager. _Many companies, both private and public, had offered her a variety of prestigious and well-paid positions. But in the end, she'd chosen Starfleet—it was one of the only familiar things that remained with her from _Voyager _as she set about making an entirely new life on Earth.

So, even on vacation, she combed through Starfleet-related messages, began making preliminary calculations for the new project she had been assigned to, and updated Starfleet on her progress.

After these tasks had been completed, she sent a message to Chakotay, informing him of her welfare and the events that had taken place so far. She did not particularly feel the need to do this, and would have preferred not to, but knew he would appreciate it. He frequently appreciated small gestures of caring…but the thought of this only gave her a sense of vague unease.

Seven sat back in the sleek chair, mind thankfully wandering away from personal concerns. Her eyes fell on the window overlooking the ocean. The day was bright and hot, perfect for the variety of watersports that Fero was known for. Had she felt more relaxed, she would have taken a walk down the way and paid for a small rental hoverboat.

But she could not relax. On the contrary, she felt increasingly stressed even as she completed her work.


	3. Chapter 3

The novel completed, Janeway sat back against the luxurious chair she'd parked herself on for the afternoon with a sense of satisfaction. She set her PADD down carefully and sipped the last of her drink, her first in the past few days, while she surveyed the beach.

She was oddly reminded of her younger days growing up in Indiana, humid summers and tall corn rows filling her mind. She'd gotten lost in their towering depths more than once. This climate was a bit different, but it certainly held the same sense of mystery and adventure.

Janeway's eyes wandered over to the hovercrafts docked on the shore, and she felt a brief surge of energy. She had done her resting, and it had done her good. It was time to get off her ass and go on an adventure.

Grinning, she jogged lightly into the sand. The Admiral was getting old, maybe, but she was still somewhat fit, especially for her age. Regardless, it felt liberating to run just for the hell of it.

Sunlight suddenly reflected off the water and nearly blinded her—she threw up a hand to ward off the attack and turned away momentarily, giving her eyes time to adjust.

The small, dark cottage down the beach caught Janeway's eyes as she did so, and she intuitively knew.

It had to be Seven's.

Memories of their conversation during the first night came floating back. Giving the hovercrafts another glance, she frowned, then quickly made up her mind to visit the blonde.

If nothing else, she should apologize for her behavior that first night. It wasn't her place to pry anymore; she was not Seven's captain, mentor, or superior in any way, for that matter. If Seven did not want to share the personal details of her life, it did not directly affect Janeway or her crew anymore, and she really shouldn't have been so insistent besides. It was none of her business.

It stung that perhaps they were not as close as they had once been, but that was a rather petty complaint. An apology was called for.

She began the walk down, reveling in the soft feeling of the sand once more and absently musing on what needed to be said. The words formed a vague outline in her head. As she approached the door to the cottage, she hesitated, took a breath, and rang the chime.

No answer. She rang again, then knocked forcefully.

Nothing.

"Seven! Seven, are you there?" she tried, raising her voice. She hoped that she hadn't made the trek for no reason, especially as she had been ready to admit a mistake (something that irritated her and was rare for anyone to witness). Peering around the side of the house, she noticed that the windows were open. It seemed very quiet, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Seven was somehow inside.

Not that she believed in psychic abilities, but a hunch was a hunch. And Janeway's hunches were seldom wrong.

Janeway turned the handle on the door, surprised to find it unlocked. This was highly uncharacteristic of Seven, who took meticulous care of her belongings and space.

The door moved easily aside without so much as a creak, so Janeway stepped inside. Her unfortunate eyes—they had to adjust once more, this time to the darkness of the interior instead of the blinding light on the water. As they did, she was able to note the relatively clean appearance of the furniture. It seemed almost unused.

This was all very interesting, and possibly alarming. It had been days since they had arrived; why did this place look like no one had ever been here?

The Admiral carefully moved further into the room, which was an open common area with a kitchen…the far wall featured a small window, out of which she could see the waves breaking. Various cooking instruments littered the counters in the kitchen, clearly dirty, and one chair was pushed out at an awkward angle. Had she left abruptly? Why the mess?

At least it looked as though she had actually been living here.

In the next room, the bedroom, she found what she was looking for—and yet, like the rest of the house, it was wholly unexpected.

Seven sat on the bed, her frame crumpled pitifully. But Janeway wasn't unsettled by her less-than-perfect posture.

Janeway was unsettled by the tears running down her cheeks.

_What the hell?_

"Seven…?"

She did not jump at her name, nor make any sign of recognition. She made no movement at all. Janeway shifted to the bed, taking a seat gingerly beside the younger woman. She placed an arm around her shoulders, hoping that physical contact would evoke a reaction.

When it didn't, the older woman spoke. "Seven, look at me."

She was frozen, little more than a statue.

The Admiral moved to crouch directly in front of Seven, hands on the other woman's thighs. Looking up into Seven's eyes was like looking into a blank void.

She felt vaguely desperate to get a response, unsure of what was happening to the blonde, or what Seven was going through. The other woman was shut down, unresponsive—she must be dealing with some intense internal issue, but Janeway was clueless as to what it was about.

"Please," she whispered, a tendril of fear creeping into her stomach. "Talk to me."

There was nothing for a moment, and Janeway hardened, ready to bring in the big guns and force a reaction, even if it was a violent one towards the Admiral herself.

Then the blonde shifted very slightly.

"Captain…" Her voice was rough, as if it hadn't been used for some time. Janeway ignored the rank change and silently willed Seven to continue.

"I must say this to someone." She swallowed with effort, eyes regaining focus. Janeway's brow furrowed as she waited out the suspense, hoping nothing terrible would come out but fearing it would.

Seven took a breath.

"I cannot stay married to Chakotay."

Janeway barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping. She immediately rose and enveloped the lithe woman in a tight hug as a fresh stream of tears fell.

"Seven…"

She could feel the woman in her arms holding back pent-up emotion, her body rigid. She used one hand to cradle Seven's head.

"This is what you couldn't tell me that first day," Janeway murmured knowingly, chin on the blonde's petite shoulder. _You were running from this. That's why you're here. _She winced slightly at the memory of the conversation. "I am so sorry. Please forgive me for prying. It wasn't my place."

Seven simply wrapped her arms around Janeway, returning the hug with as much force as it was given.


	4. Chapter 4

The two women sat quietly looking out on the ocean, this time from the beachfront instead of from the cottage. Neither had spoken more than a few words since the outpouring that afternoon.

Janeway refused to be any nosier until Seven broached the topic, and she contented herself with waiting and listening until that happened. The silence in the meantime was deafening.

Fading over the horizon was the hot sun, partially hidden beneath wispy clouds. The waves calmly reflected its light back to the heavens.

"Let's go race hoverboats, Seven," Janeway found herself saying, still gazing ahead. The thought had occurred to her earlier, in her burst of adventurous energy, and she had never acted on it because of the excursion to Seven's. Maybe Seven needed an adventure, too.

The other woman paused, uncertain as she watched the horizon. "Night is approaching, Admiral…"

Janeway pushed herself off the sand and glanced down at the ex-Borg with a cheeky smirk. A taunt rose to her lips.

She playfully held Seven's eye as she walked backwards. "What's the matter? Afraid you'll lose, Seven?"

Much to the Admiral's relief, an old fire reappeared in the blonde's eyes as she rose to the challenge. "You are the one who should be afraid, Admiral."

"We'll see about that," Janeway shot back.

"Indeed."

Their beach clothing fluttering in the wind, they strolled down to the nearest rental place in competitive silence and selected their compact, aerodynamic boats. They were hardly boats, Janeway mused, examining the smooth lines and long bow. More like little open-top, pointy capsules. You had to sit forward into the controls, almost kneeling down, head tucked behind a sleek windshield. The space was devised with a single pilot in mind, and despite the pilot's pitched-forward position, it was also designed with ergonomics in mind.

Dropping her eyes to the PADD that the owner had handed her, she read through the specs. It never hurt to check.

The information was clear: the engines packed plenty of impulse power to propel you at very high speeds, while the boat's compact shape also allowed for maximum maneuverability. Sound construction from an engineering standpoint. It was almost like renting out a high-performance stunt craft.

Seven noticed the fiery red of Janeway's boat and compared it to her cool blue one. She enjoyed the yellow lines etched across the bow of this boat; the pattern was striking and aesthetically pleasing to her. Nodding to the owner, she paid for an hour's worth of time. The price was too steep, but as she'd done little else except sit in her place during this vacation, she had more than enough currency to spend.

Janeway paid her share as well, and the boats were primed to go outside. After a quick rundown of the controls, they each stepped into the bodysuits provided by the shop, and then outside onto the dock that harbored their boats.

"Wait," the owner called, quickly running up the short dock with two items in hand. Glasses, Seven noticed. "These are required," he explained, "just to protect your eyes. They're for your safety."

Both women nodded and easily placed the slim glasses over their eyes. They were clear and contained circuitry that kept fogging to a minimum and water off the lenses, as well as nightvision and infrared programming.

Seven hopped into her boat gracefully to familiarize herself with the controls. They were user-friendly—intuitive—and therefore efficient. She approved. Revving her engine loudly, she gave Janeway a stare, and shot off into the ocean. Janeway roared behind her, grinning to herself. This impromptu adventure seemed to be putting Seven back at ease.

She banked the boat hard to the left, following the wake left by Seven's boat, and accelerated rapidly to catch up. The other woman's engine lights loomed in the distance.

The taste of salt on her lips was welcome and the cold spray of the water through her suit soothed her skin after such a scorching day. She could vaguely feel air hurtle past her limbs, and it only added to the vivid sensation of flying across the water. Her boat cut smoothly through the waves, even in the choppy areas, which made the ride considerably more comfortable.

She pushed the engine harder, racing up alongside Seven. They grinned mischievously at each other as they matched speeds.

Janeway darted ahead, daring Seven to come after to her. Her boat slid to the right and carved a graceful arc through the glassy waves as she nudged the bow towards deeper waters. Seven seemed to hesitate as she noted the direction, but dogged after the red boat, unwilling to cut back. Here the water became colder, the spray more chilling and less refreshing. Her blonde locks were already soaked, whipping behind her.

She gunned the engine, senses sharpening as she read the water ahead and unconsciously gripped the controls more tightly. One mistaken cut into a wave, or into Janeway's wake, could mean being thrown from the boat…and losing the competition with her former captain.

She was suddenly struck by an old memory of playing velocity with then-Captain Janeway, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as they competed, flashes of acrobatic saves penetrating through her concentration. Their rivalry had been…intense.

Victory would be sweet, as humans sometimes said.

Janeway glanced back in time to see Seven's boat fly past hers, and she cursed loudly, pressing harder to catch the younger woman. It did not take more than a few minutes for her to pass alongside Seven, motioning for the blonde to slow down. She braked hard, stopping quickly near the red boat.

Their engines warm and idling now, Seven could make out Janeway's smile as the Admiral ran her hands through the hair splayed across her face, bringing it back off her face and turning to Seven.

"Look at the map on your navigational display," Janeway yelled across. "See the far marker? Arrow Rock Point?"

Seven glanced down to locate the marker and nodded.

"There and back to the dock, what do you say?" Janeway added several bursts of revving to accentuate her meaning.

"Get comfortable with my wake," Seven replied, feeling immediately pleased by her ability to come up with a witty retort.

Janeway chuckled. "Let's see who'll be getting comfortable!"

After adjusting their glasses, they took off.

=A=

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Admiral Janeway _hated _losing—_hated _it—but she forced herself to let Seven win. Their race was close anyways, to the point where they needed to pull up and stop in a matter of meters from the dock, spraying the hoverboat owner with a shower of salty water in the process. (He was none too pleased by their antics, so they tipped him a ridiculous percentage of the hourly fee as compensation.)

Janeway had faked a momentary break in concentration to allow the blonde to pull ahead just outside of the docking zone. It was classy, of course, but…she still hated seeing the look of triumph on her opponent's face. She hated it even more when Seven made it clear that she would not hear the end of it any time soon.

"The question of hoverboat skill is settled, Admiral," the other woman remarked, practically crowing—for a Borg. "You may pay homage to the victor now."

"A rematch is in order," Janeway muttered, despite her secret joy at seeing Seven's happiness once again. As much as she hated it, losing was worth the loss of pride if this was the result. "Don't get too cocky."

"I think it was _you_ who exhibited overconfidence, Admiral. What is the human expression…" Seven thought for a moment, her face lighting up as she recalled the idiom. "I believe you must 'eat your words' now."

Janeway grinned and shook her head at Seven's use of the phrase. "Alright. But you do realize, of course, that good sportsmanship requires the victor to buy the loser a drink, don't you?"

"One cannot put a price on defeating Admiral Janeway. It has been said that you are indomitable," Seven continued, rubbing it in. "Except that I have now proven otherwise."

Janeway smacked the younger woman's arm playfully. "Shut up and buy me a drink, Seven," she grumbled lightly. "Let me get over my disgrace in peace."

"Is two days from now agreeable?"

"Deal. The bar at my place, 2100."

They parted at Seven's cottage. It was only after taking a quick shower and checking her messages before sleep that Seven realized she had not thought about Chakotay in hours.


	5. Chapter 5

Retiring to her spacious room was a treat tonight, Janeway decided. She activated the spout on the old-fashioned tub installed in the bathroom, making sure the water was toasty before sinking slowly into it. Her muscles ached after such a tense competition, and her emotional battery was drained. A bath would help heal the aches and pains.

Janeway's thoughts stayed glued to the events of the day, however. As much fun as it had been to race Seven, there remained the troubling issue of her marriage. Never in a million years would she have suspected that Seven's relationship with Chakotay was the cause of her evasion on the first night.

Well…maybe that wasn't entirely accurate, was it?

She'd have to admit that while she'd been sincerely happy for the couple, she hadn't ever truly understood how the match happened. Or who thought it was a good idea. But who was she to judge? Her own romantic life had been stifled for several years—rusty at best—and even barring that, she was not the most experienced person in matters of the heart. If Chakotay and Seven were in love, that was all that was important, wasn't it?

She grabbed the soap and the sponge and focused on washing the salt off of her skin, but couldn't shake her preoccupation with this subject.

Her thoughts briefly drifted off to experiences with Justin and Mark, then to the current state of her life. The fame that being _Voyager_'s captain brought to her was enormous; she was well-known and admired by millions of people. The media was quick to plaster her face all over the news outlets for months and months, giving her more interviews than she could handle, and Starfleet was constantly contacting her about holding conferences in which she could share the information she'd gained or the new tactical data she could provide.

Sometimes it felt as though her life was like taking a long university course in public relations.

But one effect that this notoriety produced was an endless supply of suitors. Plenty of men—mature, intelligent, attractive men—pursued her, convinced of their ability to make her happy…but she was not ready. Several years of maintaining distance between herself and the people around her had left its mark. At this point in her life, she was not sure that she wanted to be with anyone at all; she had gotten used to the idea that she might be alone and she'd managed alright so far.

There was a time when Chakotay had seemed to enter into the realm of possibility. Kind, gentle, caring—she hadn't expected that combination would become attractive, but under the stressful circumstances of _Voyager_'s journey, it apparently had. He reminded her of Mark in some ways…understanding and patient. In that sense, she could perhaps see why Seven would choose Chakotay; his calm personality would be exactly what Seven needed as she continued through the process of becoming more human.

So what had happened to Chakotay and Seven? Why would Seven have become so upset about their marriage?

The water in the tub was lukewarm, the night air languidly meandering through the open window of the room. It gave her no answers.

=A=

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Seven prepared as best she could, not knowing exactly what was expected of her. The Admiral's place was upscale and likely housed an elite-only clientele. She selected the best shirt she'd packed for this trip, an elegant black blouse that allowed her a significant range of motion without being too loose or, conversely, hiding her slim figure. Perhaps it was Borg influence, but Seven had always preferred clothes that were practical as well as pleasing to the eye.

She slipped roomy black pants on, having discovered that she immensely enjoyed the sensation of the wind blowing the fabric across her skin. It made her feel…lighter, in some indefinable way. After applying only small hints of makeup to bring out her eyes, and wrapping a slim silver bracelet around her arm, she deemed herself ready.

Fero's sun had just set when she stepped out of her cottage, starting to make her way down the beach. The waves were high, fierce today. Seven smiled as she remembered why she was meeting with Janeway. A sudden urge to 'poke fun at' the Admiral struck her, and she made up her mind to do it as she greeted the older woman.

In the past two days, she had been able to complete several tasks in a burst of surprising productivity. Time spent with Admiral Janeway was well-invested, as she found herself more centered and at ease, more able to function.

As she set foot into the gigantic place that was Janeway's, she immediately noticed the bar sitting to the right. It was impossible to miss with such bright signage. Admiral Janeway waited outside, waving the blonde in.

"Seven, how have you been?"

This was her opportunity. "Fine, thank you. I have been savoring the memory of victory. And you, Admiral?"

Janeway glared up at Seven and her skillful goading. "Not quite that fine, but well enough," she groused. "I can see the win hasn't gone to your head."

Seven grinned.

"Now buy me a drink," the older woman commanded, hoping to wipe the smirk off of the blonde's face. "That's an order."

"With pleasure," the ex-Borg responded, completely unfazed. They seated themselves on the plush stools. "What would you like?"

"A Feran drink called _nori_, please_._ I highly recommend it."

"Very well. I will try it," Seven replied, waving down a bartender.

The nearest one, a burly Feran with small eyes and a wispy beard, ambled over to take their order. He smirked when Seven requested nori, but brought it quickly and without comment.

It was sweet, Seven was startled to note. But very pleasant. She took a few more swallows, which Janeway chuckled at. If nothing else, the Admiral thought, their night would be interesting at this rate. She took a sip from her own glass, reveling in the taste. They certainly knew how to mix drinks here.

In no time, the two were laughing about the old days again, discussing their dreams for the future, and sharing their feelings about the present.

"I can't stand Starfleet, Seven," Janeway told her, using a hand to prop up her head. "I love my work to death, but I just can't tolerate the bureaucracy. I secretly love this vacation…"

"I feel the same way about the media," the younger woman quickly replied. "I enjoy the projects I am assigned to, but I find it extremely irritating to deal with aggressive journalists and tabloid writers. I frequently fantasize about causing them bodily harm."

Janeway laughed, imagining Seven violently decking a journalist who happened to visit on the wrong day. She knew that the ex-Borg had received martial arts training and could more than handle herself.

"We have to get out of this rut, escape somehow! Besides, I want to command more than a desk and a secretary. I have more ambition than this…put me on another ship. Even deep space sounds appealing at this point…"

Seven nodded vigorously, able to empathize with the feeling of being trapped.

"I simply would like to get away from all of the attention, Admiral," the younger woman sighed. Then she gave a sidelong glance at Janeway. "Perhaps I will be forced to 'stow away' on your ship to escape," she ventured, smiling at the thought. "Ensure that there is room for one more in your crew manifest."

"You'd be well-received!" Janeway warmly placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "I can always find a place for a competent astrometrics officer."

"Merely _competent_?" Seven faked indignation, a technique she had seen other humans frequently apply when joking with each other. "I was invaluable to you!"

Janeway chuckled at the time—long before she realized how true Seven's statement was.


	6. Chapter 6

An hour later, walking somewhat unsteadily along the beach, they made their way to Seven's cottage. Janeway had felt protective of the younger woman and insisted on making sure Seven returned home without incident.

In the calm silence that was engulfed by Fero's rushing waves, Seven felt a sense of lightness that she hadn't experienced in months. She felt compelled to somehow put this feeling into words but hesitated, uncertain about how prudent her judgment was at the moment. She was intoxicated to some degree, but her mental functions remained mostly intact. The words came out slowly as she searched for the correct way to express her emotions.

"Admiral…I feel—I feel extremely…comfortable like this," she began, "and I do not understand why this is so."

The cold water at her feet had sobered Janeway; she was easily able to ponder the statement and respond carefully.

"Could it be that you needed someone to share your burdens with, Seven? Have you felt like there were people you could talk to about your problems?"

Pausing to consider, Seven was quiet for a few seconds. "Yes," she admitted at length, "but no one I have trusted as much as the crew on _Voyager._"

Janeway smiled ruefully at Seven, identifying instantly. "I understand," she simply replied.

Because she did. Before they'd landed safely on Earth, Seven had made a habit of dropping by the Captain's quarters to discuss philosophical questions, ethical matters, and personal problems. Janeway expected the responsibility to become annoying (the Doctor was in charge of these things, wasn't he?), but to her surprise, Seven had never felt like a burden. In fact, it was the opposite—despite her resulting lack of sleep, Janeway regularly looked forward to the nights that Seven stopped by. And coffee fixed the exhaustion.

Coffee fixed everything.

They made their way through the sand, calves burning slightly from the effort. The moonlight painted their bodies in shadows and shrouded their facial expressions. It was difficult to see along the beach. Seven, having had more to drink, accidentally stepped on Janeway's foot. She belatedly apologized, which the Admiral laughed off.

Chilled, Seven reached her cottage and fumbled in the darkness for the door. She shoved it open and held it for Janeway.

"Come in, Admiral, allow me to make you coffee for your journey home…"

Although pleased that the blonde had offered her favorite drink, Janeway moved to decline, citing the time. "I couldn't bother you, Seven, but thank you. It's late and I think it would be best if you rested."

"I cannot comply," Seven responded, her sense of humor reappearing briefly. But then she suddenly became serious, throwing Janeway off.

"Please, Admiral."

There was an ordinary _please_ that people tossed around, and then there was the desperate kind. Janeway knew the latter when she heard it.

Against her better judgment, she stepped inside.

The air smelled of flowers and salt. Clean. Furniture had been methodically rearranged to give just the right amount of space. No dirty kitchen utensils littered the counter this time around. She couldn't help but notice the difference in the house after how she had seen it last time. And no one was breaking down.

Seven was no sooner walking in behind Janeway and moving to sit when the Admiral turned to face her and swung the hammer.

"Seven, what's happened between you and Chakotay?"

The younger woman averted her eyes much the same way she had the first time, when Janeway had asked why she was on Fero.

"This is difficult for me to…discuss, Admiral."

"I've noticed," Janeway replied dryly. She refused to give up so easily, though. "Seven, whatever it is, you can tell me. I listened on _Voyager, _and I don't want you to think that you can't come to me now because we're on Earth. I'm still here. You're not burdening me, I want to help you."

The alcohol's effects were wearing off as Seven struggled with herself. After a few seconds, she glanced up at the older woman, deciding to trust her. As she always ended up doing.

"I—we do not get along."

The Admiral was prepared to wait for the full story.

"At first, there was adventure. Excitement about the new relationship. We appeared to be compatible, to complement each other. We enjoyed ourselves," Seven listed, having analyzed the problem many times already. "However…it seems that now we have nothing in common. Our differences are causing frequent conflict instead of functioning as a conduit for greater understanding and intimacy."

Seven swallowed visibly and shifted. "That is not all."

Janeway's eyebrows rose in question as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the couch.

With a sigh, the younger woman delved further. "Chakotay has…changed."

Janeway's eyes narrowed, sensing that something was seriously amiss. "How do you mean?"

"I believe he is extremely unhappy. He consumes more alcohol than is advisable and avoids me when possible."

If Janeway had not known Seven better, she would've been highly skeptical about this story. Chakotay had been her first officer for seven years and she did not like to think that he'd neglect Seven—or anyone—this way.

But then, she'd been so busy with her own life that she admittedly did not know _what_ Chakotay was up to anymore. The last she'd heard, he was applying for command positions aboard several outbound ships; it had seemed like he lacked direction. When Janeway had talked to him, she'd even gotten the impression that Chakotay was considering work in the private sector, outside of Starfleet.

She felt guilty now, wondering if maybe—had she been a better friend—some of this could have been avoided. Maybe he had needed advice. Maybe he had wanted to share his confusion with her.

_He could have contacted me, _she argued. _Adults take responsibility for themselves and ask for help._

She focused on the moment again. "When did this start, Seven?"

"Soon after our wedding."

Janeway remembered. It was beautiful…held on Earth during the cool fall months in the northern hemisphere. There wasn't a hint of friction during the ceremony. They had danced, they had smiled, they had kissed. They had done everything that a normal couple does, and Janeway couldn't have been happier to see two close friends pairing off.

"Your wedding was magnificent, Seven. I'm sorry this has happened. Does Chakotay know how you feel?"

"I have attempted to talk to him several times…but he is always 'busy' with something and unwilling to discuss this issue," the ex-Borg explained, her voice sounding almost strangled. "I have not experienced—"

The Admiral realized with a start that Seven's eyes were glassy. She moved to comfort her, seating herself next to the ex-Borg on the couch as the tears fell and her voice cracked completely.

"I have not…experienced such intense loneliness before," she finished.

Her arm draped around the younger woman and her undeserved pain, Janeway felt her heart break for Seven. She was drowning despite her attempts to solve the problem in front of her. No one was there to support her, to connect with her, to guide her, to show her patience and kindness and genuine intimacy. The community she had formed aboard _Voyager _no longer existed the same way it had. No wonder she felt lonely; the closest person in her life had disappeared without explanation. For this Janeway felt a deep anger at Chakotay.

Obviously the man was suffering as well, with who knew what, but it was no excuse to make Seven suffer also. That was patently ignorant and compounded the problem.

_He knows better._

"I know loneliness is a difficult emotion, Seven. I'm here with you…please let me know if there is anything you need," Janeway softly offered. She placed a hand on Seven's cheek and gently wiped the tears from her face.

She was about to take her hand away when the blonde reached up and kept it there. She looked up at the older woman.

The sadness in Seven's face burned through Janeway's chest.

"I miss this," Seven whispered, her blue eyes melting into Janeway's gray. She deliberately held the Admiral's gaze. Her hand remained pressed against the smaller one on her cheek.

Somehow, at this close distance, Janeway felt that she was falling; as though her world had slowly disintegrated underfoot. Or as if she had been stripped and thrown into blinding sunlight—exposed and wayward. But immersed in Seven's shade of blue.

The moment was so intense that for a second, Janeway thought—

Blinking the vision away, she broke eye contact and looked down, unsure of what had just happened.

"I apologize for taking so much of your time, Admiral," Seven finally spoke, interrupting the train wreck in Janeway's head. "I do not want to burden you with—"

"No," came the clear but slightly muted answer. "It's not a problem."

Seven was silent, letting the statement stand before speaking again. "It is late. If you would like to sleep here, you are welcome to. I am extremely grateful for your assistance."

Despite her inner unease, Janeway felt obligated to remain, and accepted the offer.

She did not look into Seven's eyes the rest of the night.


	7. Chapter 7

Beams of sunlight filtered through the shades in Seven's living room, their brightness calling Janeway awake. Squinting, she waited for her eyes to adjust before attempting to move any of her limbs. Past experience had taught her that this could result in painful consequences.

She was warm. The gray blanket covering her body was much too heavy, so she threw it off impulsively, eager for cooler air to chill her legs.

Janeway's mental faculties rapidly came online when she realized where she was and sat up.

"Shit."

Rubbing her temples, she glanced at her chronometer. 0649. The good news: she felt rested enough to get up and move about in the common area. The bad news: no coffee.

Yet as much as her body ached for coffee, it ached for the fresh, brilliant sunrise outside a little more.

After smoothing her clothes and splashing some water on her face, then carefully pulling the front door shut behind her, Janeway took a few timid steps into the freezing sand. Her feet quickly adapted to the temperature as she walked the few hundred meters to the water's edge.

The rising orange orb in front of her melted away any fatigue and stiffness that had settled into her bones. It was fantastically refreshing. She stood there, arms crossed and gazing blissfully over the water, for well over a half hour and thought nothing of it. The sun had not yet turned hot, the wind was not overly cold or gusty. The birds sang to her. The waves continued their pacifying rhythm.

There was peace.

The Admiral's sigh was visible as Seven cut across the sand, trying not to give away her presence. The older woman seemed to be immersing herself in the tranquility that had escaped her for so many years on _Voyager_, dealing with their constant fight for survival. Or had she perhaps stolen moments like these, looking out at the stars with some small feeling of contentment, with no one else around? Seven tried to ignore the feeling of privilege that arose from witnessing the atypical sight before her, and focused on what she had come for.

The sound of Seven's voice directly behind her cut into the stillness Janeway had cultivated.

"I do not mean to intrude, Admiral, but I thought you would like…"

Janeway was already turning around and immediately zeroed in on the steaming mug in the blonde's hands.

"If you're bringing me that, the intrusion is more than welcome." The cheer in her tone was abundantly evident. "Sun up in the sky, warm air, good company, and a hot cup of coffee—life doesn't get better than that."

Seven smiled.

"Was your sleep adequate?" she inquired, hopeful that the Admiral hadn't experienced any discomfort from the makeshift arrangements.

"Very. Your couch was more adequate than the ritzy, oversized bed I've been sleeping on."

The younger woman nodded and moved to stand beside Janeway, both women surveying the seascape before them with a feeling of ease. Their shared silence was companionable; neither was keen to spoil the breathtaking beauty surrounding them. The Admiral sipped happily at her coffee and felt the pace of her mental wheels begin to increase as the caffeine went to work.

Having sufficiently woken up, Janeway eventually turned to Seven, struck with a plan. "Let's go into the nearest native town, Seven. What do you say to some exploring today?"

Seven quirked an eyebrow in surprise. "That would be…acceptable."

"Let me walk back to my place to freshen up and get a change of clothing, and I'll meet you at the stop just west of here at 0900. Sound alright?"

The ex-Borg tilted her head. "Of course."

Janeway smiled and began to walk away, intending to leave.

"Admiral."

She stopped, looking back at Seven through the sunrise.

"Thank you…for listening last night. It was very helpful to me."

Janeway softly laid a hand on Seven's shoulder, then left.

The blonde stood alone for several more minutes, watching the ocean and trying to recapture the tranquility she'd felt moments earlier. Her effort was in vain.


	8. Chapter 8

Revitalized and with a new outfit in place, Janeway strolled over to the transport stop, immediately spotting Seven. Her blonde hair and towering height gave her away too easily.

Well, she wasn't _that _much taller than the locals…the average Feran was simply on average about five feet tall.

As she made her way over, it occurred to her that this picture was probably the story of Seven's human life: sticking out like a sore thumb. Although there was something tragic to be said for that kind of isolation, the thought also brought a smile to her face as she approached. Seven's distinctiveness was one of the things Janeway loved most about her.

"Seven," she called, squeezing between two Ferans that likely hadn't showered in a week or so and looked like they were homeless. They contrasted sharply with the well-groomed, lavishly-dressed Ferans around them, and had been shunned accordingly.

"Admiral," she greeted, obviously relieved at her presence in the midst of so many natives. "The next transport arrives in approximately eight minutes."

The Ferans were notorious for their punctuality; in fact, they often arrived to appointments and social gatherings extremely early. Lateness was considered a trait of the lazy.

As if to accentuate this point, the transport arrived a few seconds later, the conductor ushering them on. They boarded easily, paid their fare, and took seats near the back.

Transparent windows let them stare at the lush environment whizzing by, gradually giving way to stark dryness; nearly three-quarters of Fero's surface was covered by arid deserts. The coasts provided a stunning exception, brimming with greenery—short shrubs, lean and willowy trees, and colorful mosses dominated the landscape.

But none of this was noticeable as the trip continued. The land became bleak, beige, and flat. Wind occasionally rattled the alloyed components of the transport. The Ferans aboard were quiet, used to the barren scene around them, making only small bits of conversation. Seven felt a familiar sense of awkwardness at the thought of making conversation with Janeway amidst the relative silence; she had felt this numerous times on Earth as well, as there was an unspoken social norm that one should not be too loud or talkative in hushed places. It seemed illogical and inefficient to her, but she had learned to tolerate and abide by it. She did the same here, remaining mute in deference to custom.

Of course, Janeway chose that moment to speak.

"Seven, what do you think of Fero?"

Aware of the native Ferans around her, she replied cautiously but honestly.

"I find the desert landscape disconcerting, but unique in its beauty. The openness and desolation resonate with me in a way I cannot define in words."

"You feel a connection to this landscape?" the older woman rephrased, hoping for a clearer understanding.

"Yes." Seven processed the idea of connection to place for a few minutes, then realized she should ask Janeway the same question. "What do you think, Admiral?"

"I haven't decided yet. Still getting used to the starkness," Janeway grinned. "Our stop is coming up."

Turning to gaze out of the window, Seven noticed shiny structures on the horizon; this was the nearest sizable native city, Orin. The previous stops had been to mere villages, where families noisily embarked and workers from the resort zone disembarked. Their transport was nearly full at the moment.

It emptied considerably when they arrived at Orin, their destination. Feran children whooped as they exited the transport and bounded into a nearby water fountain, much to the dismay of several Feran mothers.

The time was nearing 10:00 at this point, and Seven noted the drastic difference in temperature. Near the beach, it had been considerably cooler and breezy; here it was definitely hot and gusts of wind only blew the hot, dry air around.

Through the intense brightness of the sun, Seven spotted a nearby strip of stores and pointed this out to Janeway.

"I propose that we begin here, Admiral," she stated.

Suddenly, one of the Feran children rushed to Seven and threw his soaking arms around her long legs, drenching her pants.

Janeway couldn't help laughing.

Seven was perplexed for several seconds, unsure of how to remove the child clinging to her. She was saved from this dilemma when one of the Feran mothers came charging over with what looked like a wicked rolling pin. The child's eyes widened in terror and he immediately let go, sprinting for his life as his mother yelled after him.

"You were saying…?" Janeway asked, not quite able to keep a straight face.

Seven smoothed her pants, slightly ruffled. "I propose that we give our business to a store immediately in order to avoid further incidents."

"Agreed," came the reply. "Let's go."

They entered a nearby trinket store, deciding to search for interesting souvenirs to bring back for the people that had asked. The air inside was pleasant and the bustle from outside disappeared when the door closed.

Janeway quickly stumbled on some sort of ornate, polymorphous fan device, complete with changing lighted patterns and shapes. She was amused for some minutes as she observed the transitions, eventually determining that she liked it. Picking up a few of the gadgets, the Admiral carried on, hoping she would find other intriguing gifts.

On the opposite side of the store, Seven browsed through small aisles of food and drink, unable to recognize most of the edibles stocked on the shelves. Many looked passably appetizing and vaguely human, but one could never be sure—Neelix's cooking had taught her this lesson over and over again. She refrained from purchasing anything.

Curious as to the success Janeway was having, she craned her neck over the aisle and located the redhead without difficulty. The older woman was playing with some sort of toy, Seven assumed, that kept collapsing into her hand. She strode over.

"I can't figure it out," Janeway smiled. "It's supposed to lock into one position, but I can't seem to get it..."

Seven analyzed the device briefly before placing her fingers onto it in a specific configuration. The toy stopped moving.

"How did you do it?" Janeway marveled at the solid shape.

"Magic," Seven responded cheekily, recalling that this was a common quip that human parents used with their children, and sometimes with other adults.

Janeway let it pass, forcing herself to enjoy the mystery. She was very familiar with this type of situation; there had been times aboard _Voyager _when she simply yielded to the ex-Borg's superior knowledge of a wide variety of subjects without questioning it.

"Are you purchasing any items from this store?" Seven asked, dubiously eying the objects in Janeway's arms.

"I am," Janeway answered, moving to the clerk. "I'm happy to have gotten the majority of my souvenir shopping done already."

Seven was familiar with the custom of buying souvenirs for those people in one's life that could not be present for an enjoyable vacation or leave. It was something she found comforting—even if she did not have many people in her life whom she could give souvenirs to.

Chakotay fleetingly came to mind, bringing with him despondency. She wished momentarily that she could purchase a souvenir for the old Chakotay, the one who had been compassionate, loyal, and tender. At present, she felt absolutely no desire to pay for a gift that would go to him.

Janeway finished with the clerk, toting a small bag that contained her gifts. "Ready?"

Nodding, Seven followed her out of the store. They walked along the boulevard, pausing to consider various other shops, stopping inside, and buying anything that seemed interesting. By 1430, they both were carrying multiple bags filled with goodies.

"Last store?" Janeway suggested as they halted in front of an apparel store, feeling tired from the walking, looking, and the heat outside.

"Yes, we should return to the transport stop within two hours in order to ensure we have enough time for dinner in the resort zone," Seven calculated, then pulled the door open for the Admiral.

As they entered the shop, it was apparent that it catered solely to native Ferans; Janeway saw many of the same styles of clothing that the Ferans on the bus and around the town had been wearing. Local style favored a fit that left little to the imagination, although many Ferans wore loose tunics over these outfits that covered their bodies, protecting their skin from the desert heat and sun.

Janeway looked around out of curiosity, then led Seven to a rack of slim blue shirts in the front of the store. "I think this color would really bring out your eyes, Seven. Try this on."

As she pulled the shirt from its rack, she noticed that a relatively thin, intricate dark pattern appeared, giving the blouse a more sophisticated air. Small fringe sections began to change slightly, augmenting the primary design.

"Are these people obsessed with shapeshifting or what…." Janeway muttered. "First the toys, then the clothing…."

"According to Starfleet data files, it seems that the local Ferans admire some native Feran species' abilities to shapeshift as an adaptation to the hostile desert environment."

Janeway looked shocked for a moment, unprepared for the fact that Seven had actually done the research. "Is that so?" she murmured. The younger woman held back her instinct to respond, knowing Janeway's question was rhetorical.

"Well, try it on," the Admiral barged ahead, moving to the fitting room. "You've hardly bought anything and you'll need something to remember this trip by."

"Very well." Seven reluctantly took the offered shirt into the fitting room while Janeway waited outside. She could hear the shuffle of clothes as the blonde changed.

A minute later, Seven reappeared, and in the process left Janeway's jaw halfway unhinged.

She snapped it shut after a few seconds, stumbling her way to a sentence.

"Seven—that shirt looks…magnificent on you," she managed, swallowing. Memories from the night before, when Seven's eyes had locked with hers, flooded into her head.

"Thank you." Seven seemed pleased by the compliment, looking down to study the material's fit on her body and examining the changing pattern.

Janeway put a hand on her mouth, in acute distress over the places her mind was traveling to and the way her eyes seemed to be impossibly drawn to the blonde's incredible figure. _What the hell is…?_

"Admiral? You appear to be ill," Seven remarked, moving over to Janeway in concern.

The closer proximity only increased Janeway's problem; the younger woman's clean scent pushed rational thought away and left a pleasant burn in her chest.

"I'm fine," the Admiral reassured her, autopilot taking over as her mind spiraled into a confused abyss. "Did you decide if you were going to get that blouse?"

The blonde mercifully stepped away and gave the garment another look of approval. "Yes. I will change and purchase it."

She changed again.

Janeway sat down weakly on a nearby bench, heart hammering in her chest. She closed her eyes. This was incredibly troubling. She had absolutely no idea why she was experiencing this reaction to Seven, but she needed to find out. As soon as possible.

On the trip home, they were unusually quiet, and when Seven indicated that she was free to have dinner, Janeway politely declined.


	9. Chapter 9

It was days later, after she'd studiously avoided Seven, that the ex-Borg showed up at her door.

Janeway had done an extraordinary amount of soul-searching, intent on making sense of everything that had happened. Her distance from Seven was created on purpose to help this along.

She'd never be known as someone who backed down from the hard questions—in fact, she enjoyed dealing with those first—and this issue was no different.

_What happened at the clothing store? _It tingled in her head…and her body.

She hadn't had the time to fully process her feelings in the moment, given that she and Seven had been in a public place and she was taken by surprise. But now she needed to delve into the experience and understand exactly what she'd felt, because it could fundamentally alter her relationship with Seven.

Slowly, she replayed the memory in her mind, bringing in details and noting emotions.

The store, the cool air, the shirt, the changing pattern, Seven reluctantly taking it, Seven changing, Seven leaving the fitting room.…

There, everywhere. It felt as though she was being fed electrical current through her stomach. The sensation was enormously familiar, yes…but not ever in this context. And yet despite Janeway's confusion, it was impossible not to recognize the feeling immediately.

Desire.

Some part of her—the scientist—could not accept this until she understood why; it seemed too random, too…strange. She had known Seven for years, mentored her, watched her grow. Why now?

Suddenly, as if on cue, other memories crowded into her mental landscape, forming what Tuvok might call a disturbingly logical sequence of events.

Seeing her again, their reminiscing, the emotional intimacy Seven's plight with Chakotay had created, that intense hug, sharing plans for the future, Janeway staying over, Seven bringing her coffee that morning, their hoverboat race, their teasing one another…attraction now bled profusely through all of these moments.

Janeway realized with a start that they had practically been flirting with each other over the course of the entire vacation.

_Dear God._

If this was true _now,_ how long had it been like…?

That thought rattled her the most.

She shook her head, driving her horrified conscience away. Perhaps she had always felt this way and it had gone undiscovered—what difference did it make if that were true? That was the past, and she'd acted ethically. The only thing that mattered now was the present. She'd discovered this attraction. Now what?

Sexual fluidity was well-documented in human women, maybe, but that didn't make it any less unsettling when it actually manifested. She had no experience with pursuing women—assuming she wanted to pursue Seven at all—and hadn't the slightest clue about how to approach the subject with her.

_What is Seven feeling?_

This was an entirely different but equally important piece of the puzzle.

So when the younger woman eventually showed up at her door, after all of this thinking, she wanted to gauge that exact question.

"Seven, come in," Janeway welcomed her, standing aside for Seven to enter. The blonde did so quickly, as though she was agitated.

"Admiral, it appears as if you are intentionally avoiding me. Is my interpretation of your actions correct?"

Janeway laughed it off, not ready to have the kind of conversation this called for. "Don't worry, Seven. I just needed some time alone to think about some things. I'm sorry if you felt…neglected."

Luckily for the Admiral, Seven did not press her further on the topic. She glanced around the room instead, lingering on the expansive window along the far wall. It afforded a phenomenal view of the ocean. The creature comforts of the room were sleek and cutting-edge, obviously meant for luxury.

"How have you been?" Janeway asked, snapping Seven out of her observational mode.

"Adequate."

Which meant 'not the best,' Janeway mentally translated. "Did something happen?"

"It's Chakotay," she replied curtly.

"Ah," the Admiral acknowledged, pausing. "He sent you something?" she guessed.

"Correct. I am finished."

Janeway started, surprised by the abruptness of the statement and uncertain of how wise this was on Seven's part. "Well, I certainly understand why you would be frustrated, Seven, but I really think you should try—"

"Admiral," Seven interrupted, tone livid. "I am finished."

So something extremely important had happened. Janeway intelligently decided not to push the younger woman yet.

"Is there something I can do? Do you need anything?"

Seven was silent for a moment. "Any activity would be sufficient," she finally admitted.

Janeway took her down to the lobby, checking to see if anything was going on inside the resort. Their walk was silent. Nothing was scheduled.

Outside, a sizable mob of people was dancing to what sounded like salsa music on the beach. Janeway led Seven down into the sand.

As Janeway watched, she picked up the dance very quickly—it wasn't too difficult and similar to a few Earth dance styles. Seven was also watching as they walked by, heading up the shore.

The older woman's pulse quickened as the idea of dancing with the woman beside her occurred. No, it wasn't very creative romantically, but it was something to occupy Seven with.

But the courage she needed to summon simply in asking…

What was she, twelve? She pushed the words out, a note of uncertainty still creeping into her tone despite her best effort to remain nonchalant.

"Would you care to dance, Seven?"

The ex-Borg found it puzzling that the Admiral had asked; dancing was normally reserved for romantic partners. She found herself wondering what the other woman's intentions might be, as unlikely as it was.

"I do not know the dance," Seven protested, gazing back at the people assembled.

"I'll teach you. I've seen most of the steps before," Janeway explained, stopping in the sand and holding Seven there with her arms. "Would you prefer the man's role or the woman's?"

Seven faltered, unsure of which choice she should make. "I will assume whatever role is most efficient for learning."

The Admiral had to chuckle at the response; she should have seen it coming. "Let me take the role of the man—it will be easier, as I know the dance and can lead you."

Seven accepted quietly. She felt a slight jangle of nerves as she prepared to learn the movements. Artistic endeavors were sometimes difficult for her, and dancing tended to frustrate her as it sometimes involved a level of improvisation she was not comfortable with.

Janeway took a deep breath and put her hands on Seven's hips, trying very hard not to focus on anything besides instructing Seven on the steps of the dance.

"I need your hands on mine, Seven."

The blonde placed her hands over Janeway's, looking to her for further direction. Janeway took a breath and tried to ignore the physical contact.

"It sounds and starts like salsa—I take a step forward, you step back with me…" They began slowly, adjusting the length of their strides and finding a relaxed rhythm in time with the music. "Then you come forward with that foot…while shifting your weight to the other foot…step forward with that foot and I step back…"

Janeway had been staring downwards, making sure that they were completing the basic step correctly, but after a few minutes, Seven had mastered it. This dance was more intimate than salsa, given the placement of Janeway's hands, and the timing was tighter.

"Okay," Janeway said, unable to avoid looking up into Seven's face now. A calm pair of eyes gazed back at her, inviting a response that was anything but calm for her heart rate. "Let's try some variations."

As they twisted and spun into new combination moves, the Admiral noted with pride that Seven seemed to be enjoying herself. Not a hint of anger or depression plagued her features. She redoubled her efforts to keep it that way.

"Now I need you to lean backwards and let me lean into you…"

Seven complied, Janeway slowly lowering herself over the younger woman. "More, lean more…tilt your head back…"

As she reclaimed the familiar role of the teacher and moved into such an erotic position, desire rushed through her body.

Janeway was a bit mortified to be living the archetypal story of the mentor falling for the protégé, especially for one as young and beautiful as Seven. But there it was.

Seven bent backwards, finding their position and general close proximity, combined with her uncertainty about the other woman's feelings, electrifying. The experience was relatively new. It rarely occurred in this manner with a woman.

The blonde tilted her head forward and shifted back to complete the move, and in the process locked eyes again with Janeway, who felt the heat between them increase exponentially.

_I'm in trouble._

Thankfully, the music abruptly stopped, forcing the two women somewhat awkwardly apart.

"Your attention," an official-sounding voice came over the speaker, addressing the resort's patrons. "A major storm is heading this way from the south and traveling fast. We advise everyone to go inside and refrain from entering the water at this point in time. Thank you for your understanding. We are sorry for any inconvenience."

They both searched the southern horizon and easily found the blackened group of clouds moving towards them. Noting the mob of people trying to make their way into her place, Janeway pointed towards Seven's cottage and suggested that they move over there. She did not object.

With quick strides, they bounded across the sand, trying to outrun the approaching storm. Faint thunder pealed in the distance, punctuated by bursts of lightning, and drops of rain landed heavily as they reached Seven's door, anxious to get inside. The sky had darkened considerably and the outlying haze betrayed the heavy rain headed their way.

"Reminds me of Indiana," Janeway remarked once they were safely in, brushing their clothes off. "That nervous tension before a big thunderstorm…"

A strand of long-buried memory from _Voyager _arose in Seven's head: Captain Janeway commenting briefly on her hometown, in the Astrometrics lab. She had promised that someday she would take Seven there. It seemed as though the memory had taken place centuries ago…

Nonetheless, Seven strode to the small window to watch the progressing storm, and silently hoped the promise was still good.

It was difficult to tell with the sunset just how deep the dusk was, as the black clouds blended seamlessly with the sky. Janeway checked her chronometer—2100—and with some self-control, left Seven to herself at the window.

She leisurely took a seat on the couch, stretching her limbs and closing her eyes. Part of her was eager to block out everything and clear her head; her body had been overwhelmed with the feeling of holding Seven as they'd danced, moving in tandem, guiding her…the movement of her graceful frame. But Janeway concentrated instead on listening to the rain that had begun to pelt the roof. As the frequency suddenly increased, it produced a soothing beat, lulling her to sleep after some minutes.

Her last thought was that she'd never actually gotten an indication of Seven's feelings.


	10. Chapter 10

Seven awoke several hours later, at 0218. Her bed felt clammy, her limbs warm. The rain was still pounding away at the cottage, unrelenting—if anything, more ferocious. Frequent bouts of lightning lit up the interior of her bedroom and booming thunder refused to let her sleep again.

Placing her bare feet against the cold floor, she padded softly into the small kitchen area that overlooked the common room. Janeway was still asleep on the couch, position unchanged from hours before. Seven thought briefly about rearranging the older woman's body into a more pleasant position but decided against it. Visions of the Admiral potentially waking up as she did so both alarmed and excited her.

This confusing emotional mix was common when one was attracted to another person. Fear, anticipation, and desire were part of the experience. She knew this firsthand; she had once experienced these frequently with Chakotay—

The thought was unwelcome and she doused it in reality to ward it off. It had been a very long time since she felt such emotions in Chakotay's presence. He was not the same person she had thought he was, and had his own 'demons' to sort through.

Without a sound, she pulled a chair from the table and sat, folding her arms across the surface while gazing out the window. The smell in the room had morphed into the moist, heavy scent of rain. It was faintly sweet and soothing.

A crack of thunder startled the young woman. In the flash of lightning following the sound, her eyes widened at the picture outside: sheets of rain were being dumped on the sand and ocean, sporadic gusts of wind lashing water against the walls of her cottage. It reminded her of the storm that had appeared her very first day while arriving on Fero.

"Quite a storm," a low voice commented from behind. Seven was startled for the second time.

"Yes," she answered uneasily, recognizing the rough sound of Janeway's voice.

Through the dim light, Seven watched Janeway pull out the chair across from her and sit, glancing at the blonde. "Can't sleep?"

"The thunder is too loud."

Janeway wished her reason was as good. True, she had awoken because of the thunder, but that had not been what kept her restless. Her nerves burned with repressed desire, refusing to allow her escape through sleep.

And now the object of that desire was sitting across from her.

There were enough complications as it was—Seven's extremely recent severance from Chakotay, Janeway's age, their status within Starfleet, the attention they would draw from the media, the reactions of everyone else they knew, especially the _Voyager _crew—there was a lot to consider.

_But, _her inner voice interrupted, _when does love ever arise in perfect circumstances? Let these things work themselves out in their own time. One foot in front of the other, Kathryn._

One foot in front of the other.

Her eyes found Seven's.

Seven stared back at her silently. She studied the Admiral's face…the arch of her brow, the thinness of her lips, the gray in her eyes, the beautiful mane of auburn hair…she had seen these features thousands of times before, but they seemed more elegant, more perfect now.

And suddenly she felt faintly intimidated by the woman in front of her. All that she was capable of, all that she had accomplished, all that she would still continue to do—Admiral Janeway's list of exploits was long and her intellect renowned. The older woman was highly sought-after.

Seven realized how fortunate she would be if Janeway ever indicated interest.

If Janeway ever indicated interest…

There were many roles she had fulfilled in Seven's life—mentor, superior officer, friend, counselor, colleague—and now Seven's curiosity flared.

What would it be like to add _lover_ to that list?

Janeway gathered her wits about her and spoke first.

"Seven," she began, not at all certain that she knew how to say it, "I need to tell you something."

"Of course," the other woman easily replied, masking her turbulent emotions beneath a casual veneer. "What would you like to discuss?"

Janeway sat still for a few moments, studying Seven's face for some unknown indication. She got up and moved to the window, trying to think of the best way to reveal how she felt. But the words stayed glued to her throat.

Seven picked up on the fact that the Admiral was struggling and followed her to the window. Perhaps she could return the kindness she'd received from the other woman by helping solve whatever dilemma she faced.

"How can I say this?" Janeway looked down, rubbing her temples slowly. The lightning outside continued steadily, sending flickers of light across the room as she spoke again. "I'm having trouble sleeping…but it's not because of the storm."

Her inquisitive mind wanted to inquire about the reason for Janeway's inability to sleep, but she sensed that silence was a wiser course of action.

The Admiral continued, shaking off the rust she'd accumulated from years of lacking intimacy. "I'm having trouble sleeping because something important occurred to me several days ago," she explained, selecting the words carefully, "and it has taken me some time to process it." A rap of thunder pierced the silence. She finally glanced up at Seven, eyes searching for feeling in the other woman's but finding them hard to read. "I hope you'll understand…"

Seven kept her face neutral despite the tingling of her human intuition.

Janeway took her silence as a signal to press on, and kept her eyes linked to Seven's as the rain continued to patter on the roof. Her tone softened.

"I have known you for years…as one of my closest friends, one of my best officers…and I suppose it's funny that it's only now that I…"

Her heart skipped several beats; her voice caught as she felt the blood in her hands. _I have to do this. I need to be honest and stop making excuses._

Janeway stepped directly into Seven's personal space and gently laid a hand on the younger woman's cheek, preparing herself.

"It's funny that it's only now that I realize I love you, Seven."

The ex-Borg let out a silent breath, absorbing the enormity of the words as they resonated within her. She did not understand how, but the emotion intensified inside of her, solid and overwhelming. To hear it reflected back to her by another was deeply satisfying; it longed for reciprocal expression.

"I…feel the same, Admiral," she responded quietly.

Janeway visibly relaxed, relieved that she hadn't just launched a proton torpedo at the relationship.

"But," Seven smiled slightly, "I will need to collect on several old bets." She quirked an eyebrow as she looked at Janeway. "I believe Tom Paris is very much in my debt."

Janeway smiled crookedly.

"Mr. Paris can wait," she whispered, her gaze hot enough to melt _Voyager_'s hull. "I want you."

Seven couldn't help feeling turned on and moved to kiss the other woman, placing a hand behind Janeway's head. She leaned and stopped centimeters from the Admiral's lips, eyes shut as she reveled in the closeness, the wave of desire that washed through every part of her anatomy. She smiled in anticipation.

"I didn't know you were such a tease, Seven," Janeway murmured, determined to hold back until the younger woman came to her.

The hunger of the moment became unbearable and Seven allowed her lips to graze Janeway's ready mouth. The older woman pressed back, harder, driven. The rough contact by such soft lips—so different from a man's—sent chills rushing down Seven's spine.

Janeway dropped her hand from the blonde's cheek, trailing it down her neck while she continued to kiss the beautiful woman in front of her. Instinct guided her mouth to the flushed, sensitive skin of Seven's neck.

"I've wanted," she nearly growled, licking along the tight tendons, "to do this since the day you came out of the fitting room."

Seven arched her head back, savoring the wet feel of the Admiral's tongue. "I think I have _always_ wanted you to do this," she confessed softly.

Janeway grinned wickedly against Seven's neck.

Aggressively pushing the ex-Borg back into the wall, Janeway pressed her full weight against the other woman—hard. Then she ran her tongue along the inside of Seven's ear, warm breath drifting over her moist skin.

Seven shivered and fought back the urge to whimper.

As the Admiral continued, she could hear the younger woman breathing heavily beneath her, distracting her. Seven suddenly struggled out of Janeway's hold but stayed firmly in her space, locking eyes tightly.

"I understand that you prefer to be in positions of power, Admiral, but I will be giving the orders now," she murmured, flipping them around and assertively shoving Janeway into the wall. "Comply."

Although surprised, Janeway still recovered quickly, matching the steel in Seven's eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," was all she could get out before Seven advanced, trapping her hands against the wall and kissing her ardently. The wall dug into Janeway's back as Seven forced her arms high above her head. She pressed her body forcefully into the Admiral's to pin her down.

The ex-Borg was determined to gain more complete submission from her superior.

As Janeway slid her tongue into Seven's mouth, the feel of the blonde's breasts on her body set off an explosion of carnal hunger in the older woman. _God, yes. More._

Seven pulled back and bit lightly at the Admiral's neck, fully intent on hearing surrender. Janeway's throaty groan nearly caused her knees to buckle.

"Remove my shirt," Seven commanded. "Now."

Janeway grabbed the material with both hands and ripped it in half, buttons and all.

Seven paused, raising an eyebrow. "Efficient."

"I knew you would approve."

"I do not recall ordering you to talk," Seven reprimanded her.

Janeway quieted, but smirked back defiantly, her eyes ablaze.

The younger woman regarded her coolly, with a calm dare. "Put your hands on me. Let them wander."

Here again, Seven was amazed at the skill in Janeway's touch. The movement of her hands was foreign, the pressure of her fingertips erotic as she swept them down the blonde's exposed stomach. She halted at Seven's pants, sticking her thumbs just inside and stroking her lower abdomen, teasing the other woman.

Seven wet her lips in anticipation, then inhaled sharply as Janeway suddenly moved to her breasts. The Admiral let her tongue roam over the smooth skin while she continued to slowly move her fingers farther south.

A small and attractively strangled cry left Seven's lips. She pulled Janeway's head closer, ready for harder strokes.

Janeway stopped for a moment and chuckled softly. "You like this?"

"Yes," Seven breathed, silent again as Janeway licked across the hardness of her nipples.

The older woman allowed lust to guide her completely. She didn't know the correct way to fuck women, but it didn't matter. She could feel the rightness of her movements. Her fingers crept downwards as she sensed Seven's willingness to submit.

"I think you will _really _like this," she whispered as she rose to kiss the blonde. She ran a finger over Seven's clit, thoroughly enjoying the moan it elicited and the slickness of her hand as she began to slide her finger back and forth.

She broke her kiss only to witness the pleasure on Seven's face.

"What do you want?" Janeway's husky voice sounded in her ear.

"Harder…"

The older woman did as she was told, causing Seven to strain against her. She could feel Seven's hips smoothly grind into her rhythm as she held onto Janeway's body.

Had it really been so long? The Admiral was surprised at her own fluid movements and the intense feeling burning in her chest—something she hadn't expected. The nervousness, yes, a little…this was Seven, after all. Not only was she notoriously hard to please, but this was Janeway's first experience with a woman.

At the moment it didn't matter.

Seven craned her neck against the wall as Janeway licked there once more, hands pulling at the older woman's back. She was reeling from the controlled work of Janeway's fingers and unable to keep herself from silently thinking _fuck me, Admiral, fuck me._

Janeway felt Seven's breathing become heavier, which only increased her arousal. She redoubled her efforts, arm in pain and yet body feeling pleasure. Seven's short little gasps sent chills down her back.

Harder. Faster. Longer. The blonde was dripping wet.

Seven finally came, head back and mouth open.

As she watched the expression of Seven's face, Janeway realized that this was the way it should have been all along.

Old bets and gossip be damned.

* * *

><p><em>You had your heart in the shadows  So afraid to open up to anyone _

_I can feel a faded halo / And I can make it burn again like the sun_

_Just stay for a while / Let me hold you tonight_

_Just open your eyes / You will see the light shine_

_You don't have to be frozen_

_You don't have to be broken_

_Tonight_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Whew, finally done—thank you for all of the reviews/story alerts/favorites! They helped me finish this last scene; I've never written an explicit sex scene and even this one isn't too detailed. Hopefully it was okay. I sure enjoyed writing it…Seven and Janeway have to be one of the sexiest couples I can think of. Such fire in both women.

I really wanted to keep this somewhat realistic and not have the romance develop too obviously or quickly. There was always an unrecognized chemistry between Janeway and Seven, so I felt that giving them an extended period of time alone together would help them realize how far their relationship could actually go. Still, that realization can be gradual, especially between friends.

Anyways, hope you liked it. We'll see what idea strikes me next.


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